Be The One (Crave #2) Page 10

  “Presley, are you still there?” Jett says into the phone.

  “Sorry, yes I’m still here and we’re leaving now so I’ll let you go. I’m shorry I made you worry.”

  “Wait, no, don’t go yet. I want you to stay on the phone until you get home.”

  My mind is an alcoholic mess and all I can think is that I have already held him up when he’s got much more important things to do than worry about me getting home so I say, “Jett, you should go so you can get ready for your insherviews. I’ll call you later.” And then I hang up so he can go and do his work. When he calls my phone back a second later, I silence it and slip it into my bag. I don’t want to waste anymore of his time. Better to let him go and deal with his interviews.

  Erin slips her arm into mine as we walk out to the taxi. “Did you just hang up on Jett?”

  “Yeah.”

  She tsks me and says, “You do realise he’ll be in a mad panic right about now, don’t you?”

  I frown. “No, he’s busy with interviews so he’ll be focusing on that now.”

  “Good God, woman, you are fucking clueless when it comes to that man. He fucking worships you, and I bet you, he’ll be over there in LA running around like a madman trying to get in contact with you.”

  I wave her away. “No, he won’t. He’ll be grateshful I did what he said and caught a taxi home, and he’ll be busy with his band, you’ll shee.” A sudden wave of tiredness hits me and I yawn. I’m so glad to be going home. It’s been a great night but I need my bed now.

  Erin’s voice sounds distant to me when she says, “You’re gonna wake up to hell tomorrow.”

  I vaguely understand she’s saying something about hell, but all I can think about is how my pillow is going to feel like heaven very soon.

  11

  Jett

  “For fuck’s sake, where is your head today?” Tom rants at me as we leave our third interview for the day. “You’re moody and coming off like an asshole. I know you’ve just had a long flight but that has never stopped you from getting the job done before.”

  Fuck.

  My head is with Presley today, and Tom’s right, it’s affecting my work. She hung up on me this morning and I haven’t been able to get back in touch with her. Rationally, I know she would have gotten home safe, but my irrational side has kicked in and I’m all over the place because of it.

  And what the fuck was she doing out with two lawyers?

  Fuck.

  I shove my fingers through my hair. “Sorry, man, I’m worried about Presley, and I can’t think straight because of it.” I look at him in hope. “Tell me this shit gets easier the further into a relationship you get, ‘cause I’m not enjoying this a helluva lot at the moment.”

  He shakes his head at me. “Jesus, this is because of her? I never thought I’d see the day where Jett Vaughn was this hung up on a woman. And no, I don’t think it gets easier so you need to get your shit together and find a way to cope with being so far away from her.”

  “Shit,” I mutter as I check the time on my phone again. It’s just after four am in Brisbane so she’ll still be asleep. I’m desperate to talk to her but I don’t want to wake her up so I put my phone away. Thankfully, we’ve got another interview straight away so that should help take my mind off her.

  Fuck, who the hell am I kidding? The only thing that will take my mind off her is her.

  Tom leaves me to talk to Van, and West slaps his hand on my back. “Sorry to do this to you,” he murmurs, and I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  Frowning, I ask, “Do what to me?”

  “Dragging you away from Presley when you two are just getting started. I fucking hope we won’t have to be here for too long.”

  “Shit, West, we’ve discussed this. This is not your fault, so you’ve got nothing to apologise for. And speaking of whose fault it is, do you know if Tom has found anything on that woman?”

  “Nothing yet.” He sounds so down and it pisses me off, yet again, that she’s done this to him. West is usually the most upbeat one of our band, but at the moment, he’s so far down I don’t know what will bring him back up, short of her recanting her accusation. And I’m guessing that’s highly unlikely to happen. The woman contacted Tom just before we flew out of Brisbane to ask for money. If we pay her, she’ll do another interview and say it wasn’t true, but West is adamant he doesn’t want to pay her off.

  “Okay, boys,” Tom rounds us up, “you’ve got fifteen minutes before the next interview. I’ll see you back here then.”

  We’re holding the interviews in a hotel room in the same hotel we’re staying in so I head back to my room. I’m craving some quiet so I can try to work out everything running through my mind. I make it to my room and am closing the door behind me when my phone rings.

  Goddamnit, I just want ten minutes to myself. Is that too much to ask?

  I’m sure it’s Tom or one of the guys but when I check caller ID, I’m happy to see it’s Claudia. She suffers from insomnia and often calls me at weird times when I’m overseas.

  “Hey, sis,” I greet her with a smile on my face.

  “Hey, big brother, are you kicking some ass over there or what?”

  “More like I’m getting the band’s ass kicked,” I mutter as I sit down.

  “That doesn’t sound good. Wanna talk about it?”

  “I’m in a mood over Presley today and it’s interfering with our interviews. Tom’s just told me to sort myself out so that’s what I’m trying to do.”

  “Why are you in a mood over Presley? Did you have another fight with her?”

  “No, I’m just worried about her because when I rang her earlier she was so drunk and I’m concerned she mightn’t have made it home. And of course she wouldn’t answer her phone when I tried to call her back and now she’s sleeping . . . fuck, I hate being overseas and away from her.”

  “Okay, settle down because you’re working yourself up and that’s not going to help. Do you want me to drop by her place today and make sure she’s okay for you?” Claudia offers.

  I sit up straight. “Yeah, I’d love you to do that if you’ve got time.”

  “I’ve always got time to help you out, and besides, I want to meet this woman who has got you all messed up.”

  She’s so right, Presley does have me messed up. Groaning, I thank her and throw my phone down on the bed in frustration. I drop my head into my hands and scrub my face. How the hell am I going to make it through however long we stay in the States when I’ve barely made it through the first day?

  * * *

  My irritation with the reporter climbs another notch at her latest question. She’s been goading us with her uncalled for comments about West and the rape accusation, and we’ve been holding it together like Tom has coached us to, but this woman is testing my patience.

  “So you guys don’t think your female fans deserve more from you and from other men in public positions? Especially the younger fans who are still learning about sexuality and their rights to be respected when they say no?” she throws at us. She’s been banging on about well-known men thinking they have the right to take whatever they want from women, and I can’t hold my tongue any longer.

  I lean forward in my seat and glare at her. “I think women all over the world deserve to have their right to say no respected, from all men, not just from men in the public eye. For you to sit there and insinuate that we don’t think our fans deserve more is fucking ludicrous. For one, this rape allegation against West is complete bullshit, and for two, we’ve been involved in efforts to educate on this topic numerous times over the last decade, so I suggest you get your facts straight about us before you waltz in here and make allegations that we don’t give a shit about women.”

  Her eyes widen. “I see how much you respect women, Mr Vaughn, by the way you just spoke to me. If you think it’s okay to speak to women that way, I shudder to think how else you treat the women around you.”

  That’s it. I’ve had eno
ugh.

  I stand and ditch the microphone attached to my shirt. “I don’t give a fuck what you think about me. You’ve come in here with an agenda and you haven’t even taken the time to listen to what we’ve had to say, so as far as I’m concerned, you can go - ”

  Tom steps into the interview and cuts me off before I can tell her where to go. “I think we’ll have to cut the interview there,” he says. I don’t hear what he says after that because I’ve already left the room by the time he gets those words out.

  I stalk down the hallway to the lift and jab the button for it to let me in. We’ve got two more interviews scheduled for today, but I’m bailing on them.

  “Jett!” West calls out as he jogs toward me. “Wait up.”

  “I’m sorry, man, but I couldn’t sit through that woman any longer. She had no intention of listening to anything you or any of us had to say.”

  “I agree, but Tom’s pissed off.”

  “Fuck it, Tom will just have to deal.”

  Tom catches up to us, a shitty look on his face. “No, you’re the one who has to deal,” he directs at me.

  I give him my full attention. “I’m beginning to think coming here and doing all these interviews was a bad idea.”

  He shakes his head and jabs his finger in the air at me. “No, it wasn’t. The bad idea was obviously you hooking up with a woman because you coped a lot fucking better with being away from home when you weren’t pussy whipped, my friend.”

  My fury at the whole situation takes over. Stepping forward, I get in his face. “Did you ever stop to think my problem might be the fact that one of my best friends has been accused of something he didn’t fucking do, and now the world thinks they have the right to lump us all in as fucking criminals who think it’s okay to disrespect women?”

  Tom takes a long breath. “I understand that, Jett, but I’m looking at this from another perspective and what I’m seeing is not only your frustration at what is happening, but also your inexperience dealing with being away from someone who means a lot to you. And I’m here to tell you, that is something you are going to have to learn to deal with if Presley is someone you want in your life. Hell, you’re planning on a tour later this year that is going to last for more than six months – you’re going to be away from her for a long stretch of time so you’re going to have to figure out how to cope with that.”

  I listen to everything he says and then I turn around and punch the wall. “Fucking hell!” Needing space, I stalk back down the hallway to the stairs and make my way down ten flights of stairs. When I reach the ground floor, I push the door open and find myself in the lobby. A lobby full of fucking reporters who’ve obviously been waiting to catch us.

  Not my brightest fucking move.

  They see me and rush my way. The only thought I have is that I have to escape and a taxi outside seems like the best way to do that so I head in that direction.

  “Jett, what do you have to say to the rape allegations?”

  “Jett, why would West rape a woman when he can have any woman he wants?”

  “Jett, is it true other members of your band have also raped women?”

  They throw question after question at me, each one getting more and more ridiculous and at the last question, I stop and stare at the reporter I think asked it. “What the fuck did you just ask me?”

  Excitement flashes in his eyes and I should realise he’s goading me, but I’m too angry to put it all together. “I asked if it’s true other members of Crave have also raped women?”

  My mind explodes in colour.

  Red.

  Black.

  White.

  Anger like I’ve never known in my life shatters all around me. My body is alight with it, and I want to hurt whoever is the cause. Unable to control myself, I punch the reporter. I punch him so hard, he collapses, and blood goes everywhere. Momentarily, I wonder if I’ve broken a bone in my hand because the pain shooting through it is excruciating, but I don’t let that stop me. I bend over the reporter, and thunder, “If you ever fucking ask me something like that again, I’ll do more than break your fucking nose.” Without waiting for his response, I stalk out of the hotel and into a waiting taxi. “Take me to the closest bar,” I bark and settle back into the seat.

  What a colossal fuck-up today has been.

  And then Presley calls, and what sanity I have left goes to hell in a hand basket.

  12

  Presley

  Oh God, I should not have drunk all those cocktails last night. My head kills, my stomach is rolling and every muscle in my body aches because not only did we drink, we also danced most of the night away. I crawl out of bed and head straight for the bathroom because I’m sure I am going to vomit, however nothing comes up so I make my way to the kitchen in search of headache tablets. And as I walk past the fridge and see the photo of Jett and me on it, I have a vague recollection I was talking to him last night.

  Shit, I was. And I’m fairly certain I promised to call him when I woke up. I stumble back into my room to find my phone, clutching my stomach as I go.

  He answers on the second ring. “Hi.” Uh oh, he sounds shitty.

  I rush to get the words out but my brain hasn’t woken up properly yet and I stumble all over them. “Jett, I’m sorry about last night on the phone . . . sorry I was so drunk, oh God, I think I’m gonna vomit.” I rush into the bathroom and throw up before sinking to the floor and feeling sorry for myself. And then I remember I’ve got Jett on the phone and put it back to my ear. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes, I’m still here.” His voice is harsh but when he speaks again, it’s softened a tiny bit. “Are you okay?”

  “No, I feel awful. I shouldn’t have drunk that much last night.”

  He’s silent for a beat and then his voice is harsh again. “No, you shouldn’t have. And you really shouldn’t have hung up on me. I’ve been going out of my fucking mind worrying about you.”

  Goodness, he’s really angry with me. “I’m sorry I hung up on you. I think I was worried you’d be late for your interviews.” The conversation is slowly coming back to me and I remember something about interviews he had to attend today.

  “And who were you out with?” he demands to know, still in that harsh voice I’m beginning to hate.

  “I was out with Erin.”

  “You said something about being with some lawyers. Who were they?”

  My mind sorts through my memories, trying hard to remember these lawyers. “Oh them, they were just some guys we were talking to. I was actually trying to hook Erin up with one of them.”

  He’s quiet again, and I’m not sure what I hate more – his harsh voice or his silence. I’m beginning to regret making this call. Eventually, he speaks. “I don’t like you being out so drunk with men you don’t know.”

  I suck in a breath. “You’ve got to be kidding,” I say in disbelief.

  “I’m not fucking kidding, Presley. I was worried sick about you, not knowing if you got home safe and worrying who those guys were and what they could be doing to you while you were off your face. I’m a fucking country away, and I felt useless.”

  “Jett, I’ve been out drunk many times in my life before I met you, and I managed to survive all of those times.”

  He mutters something I can’t understand before saying, “Jesus, why do you have to argue with me on this? I just want to know you’re home safe while I’m away. Is that too much to fucking ask?”

  I know he’s probably tired with jet lag, and I try not to get upset at the way he’s bossing me around, but I can’t stop the feelings bubbling up. “I know you want me home safe but I don’t like being told what to do. If I want to go out drinking with my friend, that’s exactly what I’m gonna go and do.”

  “Fuck, this isn’t getting us anywhere, and I’m not in the mood to keep arguing back and forth. I’ll talk to you later.” With that he hangs up and I’m left staring at my phone, not really knowing what the hell just happened.

&
nbsp; And then I vomit again.

  Oh God, this is going to be a bad day.

  * * *

  A couple of hours later, I’ve got myself together and am sitting on my couch drinking my fifth glass of water for the day when I have an unexpected visitor.

  “Hi, I’m Claudia, Jett’s sister,” the pretty brunette at my door says, a beautiful smile on her face; a smile I don’t think anyone could say no to.

  “Hi.” I’m not really sure why she’s here so I wait for her to say more.

  “I spoke to Jett earlier today and he asked me to drop by and make sure you were alright.”

  “Oh, okay.” God, I’m stuttering like an idiot, and I want to say more, but I know it’ll come out all wrong so I say nothing else and wait for her to speak again.

  Her smile grows and she gives me a sympathetic look. Taking a step inside, she says, “Are you feeling sick? Jett mentioned you’d had a lot to drink. Have you been drinking lots of water?” Her voice trails off as she walks down my hallway towards the kitchen.

  I shut the door and follow her in. She’s moving fast and I’m in no state to keep up so I take my time and when I find her, she’s pulled ice cubes out of the freezer and has them in a cup. Passing it to me, she suggests, “Suck on these so you can keep your water intake up.”

  “Thank you,” I say as I take the cup from her.

  “Is there anything you want me to go out and get for you?”

  I stare at her. “Are you sure you’re Jett’s sister? He was pretty mad at me when I spoke to him so I’m not sure I believe you two are related.”

  She laughs. “Yes, I’m definitely his sister. His only sister.” She frowns at me. “You must have spoken to him after me. I talked with him at about four this morning and he was in a state, worried about you.”